While waiting for a cab outside, I saw the Moustache (note the use of a capital "M") that Grant's moustache aspires to one day be and I asked its owner if he'd mind letting his moustache pose for a picture with my friend's baby-moustache. He was happy to oblige.
Hey, it's Jim! This (fugging) guy and a few of his friends were in town from all over the place (Toronto, Boston and London if I remember correctly). He read about the show on my site and they all decided to swing by and check the band out! So rad!
Grant flirting with my future wife, Natalie (psst...Natalie, I want to make babies with you. If you're not interested in that maybe we could just practice making them. Email if you ever see this.) Bonus points to Jim for continuing to make the "get of load of this fugging guy" face. Hahaha.
...and this guy! I wish I could remember his fucking name! ARgh! He was a total Staten Island-style guido who was pretty much the friendliest guy I've ever met. He saw us taking pictures and wanted to take a look at my camera...which of course led to us taking pictures with him.
One Glaswegian + One ManSkirt + Plus 14 Scotches = A Royal AssKicking Just Waiting to Happen. So when this Scotsmans rolled up on our sorry group and wanted to hang, we knew it was time to head back to the hotel.
Besides seeing the Eiffel Tower, the only other thing Tara wanted to do in Vegas was go to the Rainforest Cafe (don't ask me, I'm still trying to figure out why as well). So check it out, we sit down at our table and then I notice there's this lady at the table behind Tara who's wearing a shirt that looks like it has a gold lamé bib built into it. When I pointed her out to Tara (who's from Texas), Tara shrugged and explained to me "Oh, that's just her eatin' shirt."
Later on, when the lady was finished with her meal (all four plates of it) she took off the bib, folded it up (see the fold-marks in it?) pulled out a matching, gold lamé, bib carrying-case, and put her folded-up gold lamé bib into her matching gold lamé bib carrying case, and put it back into her purse. I was shocked into silence. I had been kidding about it being a bib, I just thought it was part of her shirt. Who carries a bib (nevermind a gold lamé bib) around with them? Who? Fucking Vegas. Jesus.
...this guy! Hahaha! All these pics were taken at the Greenwich, CT Hilton and as the night wore on, all of the random people that were just there drinking and hanging out started mingling with us wedding folk.
Hey, it's not really a night of jerseyshoredrinking unless somebody tries to kick YOUR FUCKING FAGGOT ASS!!! This guy proudly displays his ripped shirt. (Bonus points to his friend for making that face. Ha!).